


You Shouldn't Have Said That

by HazelNMae



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: A Bit of Fluff, F/M, a bit of angst, a bit of smut, but a bit of it all, not a lot of anything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-23 21:06:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20223808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HazelNMae/pseuds/HazelNMae
Summary: Written for Anon on the prompt, "You shouldn't have said that."





	You Shouldn't Have Said That

The first time you spoke to Tommy Shelby was at a dance.

It was a ball, really. One of those obnoxiously loud affairs in which everyone puts on airs and pretends to be more important than they are.

You’d bought a new gown for the occasion, your husband insisting that you not take the risk of wearing something anyone could have seen you wear before. He was, of course, one of those obnoxiously loud guests who played right into society’s expectations. He’d always cared more for what other people thought than what you had to say.

He was born into this society. 

You were not.

He’d been talking business with Tommy and returned to you with a fresh drink.

“Darling,” he said, even though he knew the nickname annoyed you, “I’ve just been speaking with Mr. Shelby. I think you should dance with him. Give him a little thrill and let him spin you around the room a few times.”

The most kindness he’d ever shown you was in respect to your looks. You were stunningly beautiful, everyone knew, that’s why he’d married you in the first place. You looked good on his arm. Helped to hide how boring he really was. 

It’s not that he was cruel to you, but he never loved you. Which is actually incredibly fair, because you’d never loved him either.

So you sat back, waiting for Tommy to approach you. When he finally did ask you to dance, he’d interrupted a conversation with some of your husband’s associates. Though you’d never admit it to him, you were thankful he’d rescued you from the droll political talk.

Tommy held you closer than was appropriate, though you didn’t mind. It felt nice to be held by a pair of strong, young arms. Arms that belonged to a man with ambition and drive. A man who’d not yet given up.

As if he could read your mind, he began to speak about your husband.

“Isn’t he a little old for you?” he asked. He didn’t look at you and if you hadn’t heard the question a million times since marrying your husband, you may have thought he’d asked it to someone else.

“I suppose you think I couldn’t love an older man,” you responded with the same air of detachment. 

Then he looked at you. For what you realized was the first time. His eyes were more blue than anything you’d ever seen. And you’d grown up in the country where you actually saw the sky, not the smog and clouds that perpetually covered London. You’d been to the sea on your honeymoon. You’d painted with acrylics and oils from India. But the blue of Tommy Shelby’s eyes was unlike any blue you’d ever seen.

He took your moment of silence as another opportunity to drive the point home. 

“You don’t love him. I’ve been watching you with him all evening.”

“My disinterest for my husband has nothing to do with his age,” you said, not caring how curt it sounded. 

But your blunt response hadn’t taken him by surprise. So you continued.

“You see, Mr. Shelby, I married him to advance my standing in society.”

He smiled at your absolute honesty. “A fact you share so freely with strangers?”

“Oh he knows, Mr. Shelby.”

“Seems pretty desperate. Couldn’t find another way to make the moves you wanted?” he asked.

You laughed at that. Rich, coming from him. “We’re not strangers, you and I. In fact, I’d say we’re very much alike. I do what I need to do.You do the same. It’s just that the moves you make involve a little more, shall we say, aggression than mine.”

He smirked, but said nothing in return just spinning you around the floor letting everyone see how his hand slid lower down your back and you rested your cheek to his.

* * *

The second time you spoke to Tommy Shelby was the next day when he showed up at your house unannounced.

He walked in when you answered the door, without invitation. 

You just grinned, knowing everything he did was a show of power, and allowed him the opportunity to puff his chest for you.

You stood in the foyer, waiting for him to say something for several minutes. He looked around your house, not exactly put off by it’s grandeur, but also not impressed by it.

“Are you looking for my husband,” you finally asked, growing impatient.

“No, I know where your husband is,” he answered, turning back to you. “I’m here for you.”

“Well, what a pleasant surprise. Won’t you come in?” you asked as you motioned toward the parlor, faking nice and ignoring the implications of his phrasing.

As you turned away from him, Tommy grabbed your wrist. He spun you back around to face him and pulled you in close. You could feel his breath warm on your face. You could smell his aftershave and the faint scent of cigarettes on his clothes. His arm snaked around your waist as he pressed his body against yours, moving you both back toward the wall. 

When he pushed you up against it, you let out a soft moan. Though it’d only been a matter of hours since you’d last seen him, you’d thought about him a dozen times and had imagined yourself in a very similar situation to the one you faced now.

Your hands moved of their own accord, pressing against his chest, moving up to his shoulders, and finding their way to the back of his neck. The short hairs on the back of his head pricked at your skin. 

Tommy leaned in, just close enough to kiss you, and whispered against your lips, “I’ve wanted to do this–.”

But you kissed him before he could finish his sentence. One hand grabbed at the longer hairs atop his head, the other clutched at his lapel in an attempt to ground yourself. 

Tommy pushed forward then, his tongue seeking access to your mouth and your lips granting it. You pushed and pulled against one another and you found yourself moaning uncontrollably into his delicious kiss. 

Tommy pulled away and looked into your eyes. You both struggled to calm your breathing. 

“You said we were alike, you and I,” he whispered. “That you did what you needed to do.”

“Am I a business proposition to you?” you asked, unsure of how you really wanted him to answer. If he was trying to seduce you for his own gain, that’d be one thing. If he had actual feelings for you, that would be another thing entirely. And you weren’t sure which you’d prefer.

He looked at you for what felt like an eternity, one hand raising to hold your face, his thumb slowly stroking your cheek. Those devastatingly blue eyes flicked back and forth between your own, as if he sought the answer there.

“No,” he finally said.

And it felt like a kick in the gut.

“You shouldn’t have said that,” you responded, knowing now that it’d be worse if he actually felt something for you.

He leaned in and kissed you again. This time his hand wandered down your side, over your hip, and further down your thigh, until he was bunching up your skirt.

You jumped, instinctively, wrapping your legs around his waist. Tommy caught you and turned you toward the small table against the wall. He sat you there, not breaking your kiss for a second, and continued pulling at your clothing. You returned his effort, sliding his jacket off his shoulders and pulling at the buttons of his waistcoat. 

“You’d rather I said yes?” he asked, pulling away from the kiss only to help you remove his shirt.

“I’d rather you say nothing,” you answered, breathy.

Tommy stopped his movements and searched your face for confirmation that you wanted to continue. He licked his lips as he looked you over, savoring what was left of you there. The gesture nearly drove you over the edge. You reached a hand up to his face and rubbed your thumb over his full bottom lip. 

“You don’t need to say a thing,” you said.

Tommy nodded in a movement so small you may have missed it if you weren’t looking at him so closely. 

And with that, he picked you up again, landing an assault on your neck with his mouth, and moving you both toward the parlor.


End file.
